Beneath His Command

He was watching me

By the time they were finished, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

The red dress fit like it had been made for me. Backless. Precise. Intentional. The gold necklace rested perfectly against my skin.

Everything about it felt… chosen.

Calculated.

Like I had been dressed for something, not by chance, but by design.

I met my own gaze in the mirror, my expression hardening.

Whatever game Sebastian Morales was playing…

I was not going to be the one who lost.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped into the lobby.

Cool air brushed against my skin, but it did nothing to calm the unease settling deep in my chest. My heels clicked against the polished floor, each step measured, controlled, even as my thoughts refused to be.

Then I saw him.

Sebastian stood near the center of the lobby, his back turned to me, one hand tucked into his pocket. Even from behind, he was impossible to ignore.

Still.

Composed.

As if the entire space existed around him.

He wore a black suit, tailored so precisely it looked like it had been stitched onto him. The fabric clung just enough to define the sharp lines of his shoulders and the strength in his build.

Everything about him was… controlled.

Calculated.

Even the way he stood there, unmoving, felt deliberate, like he already knew I was behind him.

My steps slowed.

For a brief second, I considered stopping altogether.

Walking away.

But that would mean acknowledging him.

And I refused.

I forced myself forward.

Closer.

Closer.

Until I was standing just a few steps behind him.

He still didn't turn.

A flicker of irritation rose in my chest.

Was he trying to prove something?

Or worse… did he think I would speak first?

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

I wasn't going to say his name.

If he wanted my attention, he could take it himself.

The silence stretched between us.

And then, without turning, he spoke.

"You're late."

His voice was calm.

Just certain.

I felt my jaw tighten.

"I'm not," I replied evenly. "You're early."

For a moment, he didn't move.

Then, slowly, he turned.

And his eyes found mine.

Cold hazel.

Sharp.

Unforgiving.

It felt like being caught in something I didn't understand.

I held his gaze anyway.

I refused to look away first.

A flicker of something passed through his eyes.

Gone almost as quickly as it came.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

"What?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

His gaze dropped briefly, taking in the dress, the necklace, before returning to my face.

"You followed instructions," he said.

I let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

"Don't flatter yourself. I dressed for me, not for you."

Something in his expression shifted.

Subtle.

Like he found that interesting.

"Of course," he said.

Silence settled between us again.

"Are we leaving," I asked, "or are you going to keep staring?"

His gaze didn't waver.

"We're leaving."

He stepped closer.

Not enough to touch.

But enough.

The air shifted again, and I hated the way my body reacted before I could stop it.

Then he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering.

"You checked three exits on your way here."

My breath hitched.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

His eyes sharpened.

"You always do that when you're planning something."

Ice slid down my spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said quickly.

A faint smile touched his lips.

"You're not as unpredictable as you think, Ariana."

My heart pounded harder, but I forced my expression to remain steady.

"Then stop watching me."

"I'm not watching you," he said quietly.

A pause.

"I already know you."

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.

"That's impossible."

This time, the smile stayed.

Small. Dangerous.

"You still think this is about your father."

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

He straightened.

"It never was."

The world around me seemed to blur for a second.

"What are you talking about?"

But he had already stepped back.

"Come," he said simply. "We're going to miss our flight."

Like nothing had just happened.

Like he hadn't just shattered the only explanation I had been holding onto.

I stood there for a moment, my pulse unsteady, my thoughts spiraling.

If this wasn't about my father…

Then why me?